The Hunted
by biomechanical
Summary: Hannibal has already chosen his next meal and initiates the hunt. However, his prey defies his calculated expectations and his cold logic when he realizes that he is no longer the hunter, but the hunted. One shot set between s1 e4 (Oeuf) and e5.


**A/N: Hello! Thank you for stopping by and checking out this story.**

**Since this is a Hannibal story, I don't think I should warn you of the disturbing imagery *wide grin***

**This takes place between the episodes Oeuf (banned episode 4) and Coquilles (aired episode 4 that's actually 5).**

**Bon appetite!**

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Doctor Hannibal Lecter stood in front his refrigerator holding the freezer door open with a disapproving frown.

"What is it, Hannibal?" Abigail asked innocently. The young girl, thankful to be with Hannibal and not locked in that demeaning mental facility, leaned against the central counter with her hands clasped delicately in front of her.

The doctor closed the freezer door and turned to his charge. "I appear to be out of steaks," he said with a pleasant smile laced with a hint of the sinister. "That will not do at all for the breakfast I have planned for the morning. I'll have to make a quick trip to the store."

"Do you have to go now?" Abigail asked, not picking up the sinister hint in Hannibal's smile. After all, she saw in the doctor the fatherly figure she so desperately missed.

Hannibal's smile grew into a knowing smirk. He saw such great potential in the girl. A girl already trained to hunt by her serial murdering father. Hannibal loved Abigail's trust in him. He needed that if his plans for her are to succeed. He glanced out the kitchen window and silently approved of the darkened skies of night. "Yes," he said. "How else am I to have breakfast ready first thing in the morning?"

Abigail smiled and her eyes brightened. "Let me come with you," she said and moved away from the counter.

"No." Hannibal held up a hand and smiled. "You stay here and relax," he motioned toward the television room, "and that is what I expect you to do."

The girl sighed, but nodded. She couldn't deny that the thought of venturing out into the public where she could be recognized sent shivers down her spine. "Alright, Hannibal," she said at last and padded out of the kitchen.

Hannibal followed close behind Abigail and stopped at the front door to grab his coat and car keys. "I know exactly what I'm going to get," he said as he enjoyed the visions of the meal he had marked several days ago dance through his head. "I won't be gone long."

He watched Abigail wave from down the hall and without saying goodbye, the doctor was out the door. He checked his watch as he walked briskly to his car. Eleven thirty-five. His quarry, a creature of habit, usually went to the same lounge by ten every Friday night, but always left at midnight exactly. He had enough time to set his trap.

As he approached the lounge, he visually scanned the lot and smiled. His mark's car was there, just as expected. He continued past the lounge and parked on the street around the block where he knew no camera was poised.

Leaving the car, he walked along a plotted path that offered the most cover, while remaining inconspicuous, and entered the parking lot. Knowing where all the cameras of the lot recorded, and didn't, Hannibal approached the car of tomorrow's breakfast.

Giving the lot one final glance and seeing no one, he dropped to one knee and bent over. Reaching underneath into the engine compartment, his hand searched through the grease and metal until he found what he was looking, a thin hose that fed the brakes much needed fluid.

He reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a hook bladed knife. With one swift slice, the hose was severed in two. An infantile practice, he had to admit, but effective nonetheless. He tucked the loose ends up into the engine where they wouldn't be noticed and climbed to his feet as he returned the knife to his pocket.

Just as calmly as he had made his approach, he left the lot and returned to his vehicle. Settling in behind the steering wheel, he wiped away the small amount of brake fluid that had dribbled onto his hands with a small towel he had put behind his seat for just this purpose. Now all he had to do was wait and he didn't have to wait long.

Hannibal's breakfast, a woman in her early twenties, walked out of the lounge. She was alone, as always, and strode across the parking lot to her car with an air of confidence and fearlessness. The woman climbed into her car and after a few moments, she pulled out into the street.

The doctor inhaled a calming breath at the sight of his next meal driving by. He licked his lips as he started the car and steered the vehicle onto the street some distance behind his quarry. As he drove, he noted that the road the woman was taking was the same as all the other times he'd followed, exactly as expected.

He had chosen this particular delicacy because the woman lived in a secluded house a good twenty miles outside of town down a forested and equally secluded road. Perfect. Once he was far enough that no one would chance upon them, he pressed the accelerator. Time to spring his trap.

When Hannibal was close enough behind his prey, he rapidly flashed the headlights. When the woman didn't slow, he sped up and fell in next to the other car. He waved and pointed down, as if something was wrong with her vehicle.

The woman looked, concerned etched across her face, and nodded. She pressed the brakes, and as Hannibal expected, nothing happened. She panicked. Grabbing the emergency brake lever, she yanked up hard. The car responded with squealing tires and a fish-tailing rear end. The woman frantically tried to regain control of the car, but veered off the side of the road and slammed into a tree.

Hannibal watched the woman's out of control car with the same appreciation as one would have of a fine ballet. He smiled as he parked his car and, turning off the engine and leaving the parking lights on, climbed out. He paused to enjoy the scene of destruction he'd caused. Then, he stepped down the shallow embankment to the crashed vehicle. The thrill of the hunt drummed in his veins and the anticipation of the fine meal he would prepare in the morning watered his mouth.

He reached the driver door and pulled it open expecting to find breakfast injured and pliable behind the wheel. He frowned at the empty seat and took a step back. Where was she? Hannibal leaned over and peered inside the vehicle. Empty. All the doors in the car were closed, the windows rolled up... except the shattered windshield.

Hannibal moved to the front of the car and closely examined the windshield. The plastic infused glass lay like a sheet of sharp edges across the hood of the car. The woman had to have been thrown through here, or perhaps she climbed out. There was no sign on blood... anywhere. He ran his thumb across the broken glass and winced at the small cut he earned.

A snap in the forest.

Hannibal whipped his head around toward the sound the came from somewhere nearby in the forest. "Hello?" He called out, his voice falling flat against the thick woods. "I'm here to help. Are you okay?" A trick he'd learned as a young monster that girls always fall for. He looked along the path of light the one working headlight from the wrecked car carved out of the dark.

Another snap, closer this time.

The doctor smiled. "Are you hurt?" His accented voice was pleasantly concerned. "Do you need to go to the hospital? I can take you. Where are you?"

"H-hello?" The woman cried, her voice weak and shaking.

Hannibal honed in on the location and carefully picked around the trees toward the woman's voice. He slowly pulled his knife out of his jacket pocket. The small curved blade was razor sharp and pleasantly intimidating, his favorite for collecting groceries. "Keep talking," he said. "It will help me find you."

Another snap of a twig, but came from Hannibal's left instead of his right. He froze and listened. The woods could be playing tricks even though he wasn't even ten feet in. "Hello?" He tried again and tilted his head.

"Hello."

A sudden shiver unexpectedly crawled its way down Hannibal's spine. The voice came from directly in front of him, but just beyond the beam of headlight. He swallowed involuntarily. "Where are you? I can't find you."

"I'm over here."

Hannibal spun on his heel and stared behind him with confusion in command of his features. How could she be behind him? She wasn't... was she? He could see the lights of his car on the road, but he didn't see the woman.

"Hello?" The woman's voice was in the same direction, but a little farther away down the road.

"What the hell?" Hannibal hissed and stomped back to his car. He looked down the road in both directions. The moonlight reflected off the damp pavement making it possible to see a good distance, but Hannibal saw no one. He hadn't planned on this, it was not part of his game. Deciding to leave before someone troublesome happened along, he reached for the handle of his car door.

"Help!" This time the call echoed out from the forest Hannibal had just walked out of.

He spun around, knife in hand at the ready. There was something... off about this, but Hannibal couldn't put his finger on it. He stared into the darkness behind the trees and suddenly felt like someone was watching him. The feeling was unnerving, especially when he was usually the one doing the watching.

Instead of calling out again, he glared at the dark forest and contemplated all the possibilities. However, there was only the primal knowledge that he was no longer in control of this situation.

He'd had enough.

He lifted the car door handle. He heard the click of the latch. Suddenly, something grabbed him from behind and slammed the side of his head against the car.

Dazed from the unexpected blow, Hannibal staggered and sank to his knees despite reaching out for the car for support. He hunched over and held his hand against his head. He felt the all too familiar moist, stickiness of blood. His clinical mind knew that he'd suffered a decent concussion from the blow, but what attacked him?

Hannibal lifted his head and wiped back the sweat and blood that threatened to cloud his vision. To his surprise, there stood his chosen meal.

The woman, in her designer boots, tight jeans and frame hugging long sleeved shirt, appeared completely unharmed. She leaned over and cupped Hannibal's chin like a mother would a child. "You fell right into my trap, didn't you?" She smiled down at the doctor. Her grin was not pleasant at all, but wholly predatory.

Hannibal blinked, trying to comprehend. This wasn't right. _He_ was hunting _her_. She was mocking him, and he found it utterly rude. He despised rude people. He leaped to his feet and charged the woman with a rage fueled snarl and his knife ready to slice into her flesh.

The knife came down with practiced efficiency and... cut into nothing. The woman stood in its path one second, but was gone the next. All she did was sidestep the incoming attack, but Hannibal didn't see her move. He staggered forward, unable to stop his momentum.

She laughed as she grabbed Hannibal's arm and spun him around with a show of strength Hannibal couldn't believe. She slammed him onto the hood of his car and jumped up, landing with a foot on either side of his chest. The metal of the hood popped and snapped as it warped underneath their combined weight.

The woman's smile had not changed and it was clear that she was enjoying herself.

"Who...?" Hannibal lifted his head and started to sit up, but the woman sat on his chest and dug her knees into his arms. He had always relied on his slim, yet powerful, strength to overpower his food. However, when he tried to raise his arms to throw the small-framed woman off him, he found he couldn't move. Perhaps the hit on his head was worse than he thought.

The woman pressed a finger on Hannibal's lips. "Shh," she said. "No point in struggling. I am far stronger than you and I would prefer you were awake while I enjoyed you." Her lips parted in a wide grin that showed her white teeth... and a pair of sharp fangs.

Hannibal scrunched his eyebrows. Did she really have... fangs? Enough of this. He flexed his arms and braced his legs in another attempt to throw the woman off him. Her thin frame should have been easy for him to do so, but he found he couldn't even budge. Her strength was inhuman.

"Tsk tsk," said the fanged woman in a mocking tone. Before Hannibal could protest any further, she turned his head to the side and lunged. Her fangs sank into his neck and warm blood filled her mouth, but she found the flavor a bit... off.

She spit the blood out in disgust. It splashed across the hood and spilled over the edge. Sitting up, she looked down at her prey and frowned. "You are the worst tasting human I have ever had," she said ignoring the blood that dribbled down her chin. "What _do_ you eat?"

Hannibal was at this... creature's mercy and he knew it with total clarity. "I don't know. Regular stuff," he said while trying to turn his head to look up at the thing, but to no avail while her hand still pressed his head to the side.

"I'll bet," the woman said with snort. She leaned closer and audibly sniffed over the wound in Hannibal's neck. Tilting her head, her eyes shined in thought.

"What are you?" Hannibal asked. If he was going to die by this thing's hands, he at least wanted to know what she was.

"I've smelled this before," she said after a few moments and ignored Hannibal's question. "A long time ago when food was scarce, I remember some men committed some rather disgusting atrocities to stay alive."

Hannibal blinked and shifted his eyes to look at the creature.

The woman stood up suddenly, releasing her hold him, and glared down at Hannibal. "You're very fortunate tonight. I don't like the taste of cannibals."

Free of the creature's iron strength, Hannibal chose to simply turn his head to get a better view of the woman. Otherwise, he remained still.

"You will not see me again," the woman said. "And don't bother looking for me. I'll smell you coming." She paused a moment to give Hannibal a glare that was clearly meant as a warning. When she was satisfied he understood that warning, she jumped straight up and disappeared in the night sky.

Hannibal continued to lie still and simply breath. However, the urgency of avoiding discovery crept up inside him and urged him to sit up. He slid off the hood and, using the car for support, moved around and climbed inside.

The comfort of the driver's seat threatened to lull him into a false sense of security, but the desire to not be found at the crash site forced him to start the car and drive.

His logical mind could not comprehend the impossibility of the inhumanly strong, fanged woman. Segments of lore and literature swam through his mind that screamed its name, but he dared not say it in fear that he would come to accept it as truth. No. There had to a logical explanation.

An explanation he would surely not discover tonight, and he wondered if he ever would.

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End.

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**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the read. Please leave a review, if you like, and thank you in advance!**


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